Invictus
by Myriad Lapse
Summary: We didn't stand a chance when they came to conquer. First we were enslaved, and now we are separated. Who exactly is the master of our fate? Only time will tell.  AU in which the trolls have colonized Earth; many pairings to come


_Prologue_

**Be the Nameless Escort.**

You stare solemnly at the scene unfolding before you.

A human man wearing a fedora clutches a boy with messy black hair to his chest desperately.

"Dad...Dad I can't breathe."

"Dad" releases the boy, who leans back to look at Dad's face. Perfectly colorless tears stream out from under the shadow of his fedora as he smiles sadly down at the boy. "Son..." The words seem to be there, but there's a visible internal struggle the man has before he finds the gall to say them. "I love you."

_Love._The word must hold an intimate concept for these humans, you think, since the boy with a now equally tear-streaked face sniffles and throws himself into Dad's chest again and murmurs, "I love you too."

You don't really feel like breaking up the vascular chest organ string-tugging moment, but... "We're wasting time here," you say impatiently.

The two humans separate reluctantly but obediently. The boy looks away as you pull the adult human male's arms behind his back and strap a pair of Alternian cuff mitts to his wrists, effectively fastening them together. Damn it, you really feel like a douche right now. How sad is _that?_Well anyhow, your job is to retrieve the adult human, not sit here and watch an emotional pityfest. Let alone the fact that it's making you yourself almost pity these creatures.

"John," the taller human says, and the boy reacts by giving his astute attention. "Stay...stay out of trouble. Keep the house clean while I'm gone, okay?"

The John human boy nods with a grimace, pushing up his wet glasses in front of his shining bright blue eyes. God, your pity gland can't take much more of this-it's like some scene from a cheesy romcom. Only you really didn't want to think of these two humans as matesprits or moirails just now...ew.

It's so strange how easy it was to imagine though. These are _humans_; a slave race of the Alternian military inhabiting a planet colonized forty or so sweeps-or by Earth terms, eighty-something years-ago. They just happen to have similar traits to you trolls, the most advanced species in the incephisphere. All they would need is tougher, grey skin to replace that lousy pale and squishy excuse for an epidermis, exclusively black scalp fur, eyes with an orange sclera, claws, fangs, and most of all a pair of horns; then they might as well be trolls. Maybe if they weren't mammals and were hatched instead of birthed, they could maybe be considered for quadrant-filling...but no. You can't allow yourself to feel any pity for these creatures. Trolls are only permitted to feel apathy for these stupid humans. Anything else, even sympathy, might as well be a target on your skull for the culling drones. The Alternian military has no place for anyone who feels for a slave race.

"Keep the house clean...got it," the boy repeats.

You roll your eyes. While the adult human custodial figure is "gone", the child won't be in this "house" (_hive_, you think to yourself, _and a shitty one at that_) anymore. After Dad here gets transportalized to another colonized planet to work in either one of the arms production facilities or the lusus nurseries, his charge will be escorted to a communal dormitory lodge located in one of the many plantations located all over the continent.

"Okay, break up the pity party, I'm getting sick. Move it!" You yell as you yank the Dad human away from his charge.

"Dad-!" You lift your leg and effortlessly shove the human boy in the chest with the toe of your boot before he can say more. He stumbles-more like flies-backwards into the arm of the couch with a grunt. He falls to his hands and knees on the floor, clenching his teeth and hissing in pain.

You don't know why you just did that. Maybe to assure yourself you aren't feeling any pity for these humans? Sure, let's go with that.

Dad struggles for but a moment and then freezes up as you glare at him. You abruptly swing him around by the arm towards the door, and resist the urge to look back when you hear a choked sob. You fail to resist the urge.

The boy is curled up on the floor now. "Dad," he whimpers pathetically. For some reason, even though this is pretty much the tenth or so human "family" you've ripped apart, you can't help the immense guilt washing over you. You slam the door; you like to think it's to punctuate the power of the Empire, but your gut wrenches at the thought and you try not to think about it anymore.

You lead the human without a struggle to the levitating slave-transportation bus at the end of the lawnring and the two of you step on. The vehicle has no seats-those are a luxury slaves don't deserve-and about a dozen other human adults observe you both in grim silence in their lines of two on either side of the aisle, their sympathies and pities reflecting in their hope-drained eyes. Another woolbeast has been retrieved for the slaughter. You force the human into an open spot down the aisle next to a female wearing a pink scarf, then remove his cuffs-no one who knows the Empire would be stupid enough to act out any resistance-and walk away staunchly to resume your guard position. All you can do now is try to keep the whatever composure you have left; you really can't afford to lose it.

You hate your job.

**Be Dad.**

You are now Dad.

You stare at the floor as the guard walks away, leaving you to only silently worry for your son's safety after what had just happened. So you were standing here, now, about to be taken to a place probably light-years away from where you call home. And now your twelve year old son was being left behind. Or rather, you were being taken away. A stray tear dripps onto your tie. This secure little bubble you had created for you and your son after your mother passed away is now being destroyed by the Empire. You hold your breath to fight back any more tears, and you chuckle quietly at a small thought-all those years of teaching John about man-grit and you don't have any left for yourself.

Suddenly, a sway of pink in the corner of your eye catches your attention and you look over to the woman standing next to you.

She's smiling coldly, but it somehow warms you from the top of your fedora to the hem of your slacks. She's lovely, you think, and you can't help but feel secure when the two of you lock gazes. You can tell she's had the same worries as you-a child of her own has probably been left behind as well. Your intuitive observation seems to be mirrored sympathetically, judging by a small nod from her.

You hold out your hand. She takes it without hesitance, and it's a reassuring gesture. Even though you don't know her name, nor she yours, a silent little promise is shared between the two of you with perfect clarity before the bus transportalizes in a flash of green.

_They'll be alright._

* * *

><p><em>Ah my gosh...what am I doing here? Writing <em>fanfiction?<em>  
><em>

_Prithee tell which apocalypse** _this _**is!_

_Feel free to point out any errors or suggest better ways i can word things-i did my best to fix it all up nice and shiny . w .;_

_Well, this was a little idea I came up with while scanning through Archive Of Our Own for some similar AUs. It had to be done i'm sorry ; w ; I prompted myself into this by developing a summary that involves how the earth was invaded years ago by the trolls and the humans are basically an enslaved race. Here I have some things that are made vague on purpose and will be revealed in due time...if I decide to continue haha._

_If i DO happen to continue, the genre will mainly be ROMANCE, and the main focus pairing will be Karkat/John. Other pairings may be cracktastical. there will be a while fricking lot of bromance between John and Dave, because. just because 8D And because i ship all the ships, all of them, i'll take suggestions as to which pairings i do and which quadrants are formed_

_The rating will NOT escalate into anything more mature than T for cussing. Yes, boys will be kissing; maybe girls will be too. It's not the end of the world if your mind is polluted by it. don't like, don't read. 3_

_So please tell me if i should continue this! ; 7;_

_DISCLAIMERS:_

_HUSH NOW, HUSSIE OWN'S HOMESTUCK BT  
><em>

_"Invictus" is a famous poem by William Ernest Henley, and it is beautiful you should all read it if you haven't ; w ;_

__This is also on my deviantART page. My username is oneAWKWARDbird if you wanna go comment/fave on there. :3  
><em>_


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